Casebook 4: The Case Of The Severed Hand
by TalepieceUK
Summary: From The Casebook Of Madame Vastra. Vastra and Jenny investigate the strange occurrences at Paternoster Row.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Case Of The Severed Hand  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 12 cert.  
PAIRING: Vastra/Jenny  
SERIES: The Casebook Of Madame Vastra  
CONTINUITY: This is the fourth of the Vastra/Jenny detective stories.  
SUMMARY: Vastra and Jenny investigate the strange occurrences at Paternoster Row.  
DISCLAIMER: Own them, I do not; sue me, please do not.  
CREDITS: This story is based on Clark Ashton Smith's _The Return Of The Sorcerer_ and WF Harvey's _The Beast With Five Fingers_. The character of Hoogstraten comes from a short story by Reginald Bretnor that will be more closely referenced in a later part.  
NOTE: I've decided to split the Casebook series into volumes of four stories each. So I suppose that makes this a series [season] finale of sorts and something of a Halloween special too. I'll take a break for a month or three to plan out the next couple of volumes and maybe even write something else. I hope to start posting Volume Two early next year and there'll be a Christmas story before that.  
Feel free to play Spot The Lovecraftian Adjective while reading :-)  
POSTED: October 2013

* * *

Madame Vastra and Jenny Flint are most often associated with a particular house in London; their home on Paternoster Row, now so sadly destroyed by the Luftwaffe. However, how they came to take up their residence at that esteemed address is less well known. It was during an investigation more strange even than that which introduced them to the presence of alien beings on this Earth, one that found them in the most dire of supernatural circumstances.

Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint  
London, 1948

* * *

Jenny Flint settled down by the fireplace and sipped at the hot tea that she had just prepared for herself. She had finished her few morning chores and was confident that her friend Madame Vastra would complete the tasks she had agreed to tackle. Now she had a couple of hours to herself and Jenny had decided to make the most of it.

Jenny glanced down at the little table beside the chair. It held the slightly crumpled Bath paper that she had purchased from a street stationer a few weeks before, a fine pen that Vastra had given to her as a gift and a little book that Jenny looked forward to reading once she had written her letter.

Vastra was in the upstairs room that had been converted into a labratory of sorts, filled with the strange items that they had acquired, in a manner of speaking, from the Terileptil's warehouse in the Docks. Jenny still wasn't sure if it was a good idea to have such equipment in a house like this but it seemed to keep her friend happy and that made Jenny happy. It also kept all of Vastra's tinkering in one room, which made Jenny happier still.

Jenny picked up the pen and considered what she wished to say to her friend Alice, one of the few people from her old life who she remained in contact with. She was just inking the pen when the explosion rocked the house. At least Jenny imagined that it had, though it could have been the shock that made it feel that way. She was out of her seat and up the stairs in a moment, rushing headlong towards the growing cloud of smoke that was seeping out from around the door to Vastra's lab and was gathering on the landing.

The door flew open, the handle clattering into the wall as a great gust of smoke billowed out and Vastra emerged from within its folds. The tall, usually immaculate figure was bent over, her dress speckled with dust, her usually green face stained black with soot.

"Madame?" Jenny said, rushing towards her, "Vastra, are you alright?"

Vastra coughed, her eyes streaming with tears despite the rapid movement of her multiple eyelids, the few patches of visibly green skin darkening with embarrassment.

"I appear to have had a mishap, my dear."

"I should say."

"I believe I should avoid combining those particular substances in the future; saltpetre in particular, I fear."

Jenny pulled out her handkerchief and spat on it, rubbing the dampened cloth over Vastra's face, "Perhaps so, Madame," she said, relieved to find no real damage beneath the stains.

Vastra studied her friend's twitching lips and said, "I could have been quite badly hurt, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Jenny's face broke into a broad grin, "and I'll not say I told you so, obviously."

"Obviously."

Vastra coughed again hoping to encourage a little more sympathy from her friend but she recognised that twinkle in the eyes and though she knew Jenny had been greatly worried by the accident, she also knew that her concern had now passed into good humour. Vastra looked down at herself and her own lips quirked into a smile.

"You do look a sight, if you don't mind me saying so," Jenny indicated the room with a tilt of her head, "Is everything alright in there?" .

Vastra turned to look into her labratory. Most of the smoke had cleared from within and was settling across the landing and down the stairs; the whole house would smell quite strongly for some time to come. The room would require a good clean - and Vastra knew exactly who would be told to do that job - and a good airing too.

She looked up and saw the angry stain that now fouled the ceiling, looking down again quickly in the hope that Jenny would not notice it. Too late. Jenny edged forward until she was leaning on the doorframe and stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh," was all she said.

"Indeed," was all Vastra could bring herself to reply.

She was saved by the door bell, the loud sound making them both start. Jenny harumphed but withheld any expletives that may have troubled her mind. She looked Vastra up and down and said, "You'd best get cleaned up, Madame," before hurrying down the stairs. She wafted her arms around as she went but knew that it was a futile gesture.

By the time she was at the door, Jenny had her pinny straightened and the little maid's bonnet on her head. It was what folks expected and she had learned the hard way that showing people what they expect is much easier than showing them the truth. Besides, Jenny thought as she opened the door, who on Earth would believe the truth in this house?

She pulled the door back to reveal a tall, broad gentleman in his fifties or so. He was obviously doing well for himself, given the rotund nature of his physique and the unhealthy tint to his cheeks. Apparently the walk from the road to the front door - all of five steps for a full grown man - had been a little too much for him. He smiled and his corpulent face looked a little more healthy. A very little.

"Good day to you, Sir," Jenny said with a bob, "and how may I be of assistance?"

"I would ask to speak with one Madame Vastra, if I may young lady? I am Cornelius Milton III of Milton and Milton, the agents."

His voice was soft, a gentle lilt to it that tempered the formality of his words. Jenny bobbed again and stepped back to bid him enter. He stepped into the hallway and sniffed, then tried to cover his reaction to the smell. Jenny liked him even more.

"Forgive the smell, Sir, if you would; I'm afraid we've had a bit of an accident just this minute past."

"I do hope no-one has been hurt?"

"Oh, just the ceiling in one room and perhaps a little dent to the pride too, Mr Milton."

"I am very happy to hear it," he sniffed more delicately this time, "I fear someone may have been playing with things best left alone. Madame Vastra has children?"

Jenny only just stopped herself from laughing in the man's face, though he didn't deserve such a response. It was a fair assumption after all and Vastra's labratory was a playroom of sorts, though Jenny kept the thought to herself.

"No, Sir, there's just the Madame here."

Mr Milton said only, "Ah," but covered his confusion with a few kind words about their home until Jenny had him settled in the sitting room and offered him tea, clearing away her own forgotten cup with a flush of embarrassment.

"Thank you, I will not," Milton said to the offer and nodded kindly when Jenny excused herself to take her own tray away.

She met Vastra at the bottom of the stairs as they both headed back to the sitting room and said, "A Mr Milton of Milton and Milton, the agents. Not sure agents of what, though."

"Estate agents, my dear, they handle the London properties of many of the best families in the city."

Jenny rolled her eyes, "Them again," she muttered before they entered the room and she gave Vastra a formal introduction.

Mr Milton stood and bowed, taking Vastra's offered hand firmly and thanking her for seeing him without the appropriate notice.

"Not at all, Mr Milton. All too often matters requiring investigation come upon us unexpectedly. Is that the case here?"

Mr Milton settled back into the chair and said, "Less unexpectedly, more urgently. I have a matter of some delicacy, Madame, and one that I find it quite difficult to speak of without appearing to be an utter fool."

"Do not be inhibited, pray, and I assure you, Miss Flint and I will not think you a fool, no matter what you tell us. Everything spoken in this house is considered quite confidential, you have my word."

"You are most kind but I fear you may change your mind 'pon hearing my story. I hardly know how to begin," he said and then stared at the carpet for long moments.

"Aloud?" Vastra offered but not unkindly and it prompted the man to begin his tale.

"Indeed, do forgive me, ladies. Now then, I have the great privilege to act as the London agent for a number of important families. One such is the Borlsover family. Or should I say, what is left of them. Poor, dear Augustus Borlsover passed some years back and the London house was taken by his young nephews, Charles and Eustace. I fear you will have read of them?"

It had been difficult not to, Jenny thought and glanced down at Vastra's veiled face to see a twitch of confirmation. The Borlsover brothers had been academics - one of anatomy, the other of religion, or so the newspapers had said - who wrote papers and gave lectures and the like, occasionally working together on other matters. Then something had happened, something that no-one could fathom, and the brothers became reclusive. Eventually, matters had deteriorated between even themselves and now one brother was missing and the other was locked up in the mad house.

Vastra said merely, "I believe I have read something of the Borlsover family, yes."

"A most difficult matter, quite the most terrible thing I have ever seen. Eustace gone and poor Charles quite mad - with grief, no doubt - and only a distant cousin remaining."

"Distant in both senses, I understand."

"Indeed so, Madame, young Albert is quite settled in Italy and refuses to return, even to deal with this awful situation."

"Awful in more than just the obvious sense?" Jenny said.

"A great deal more," Milton took a breath before saying, "We have been required to prepare the Borlsover residences for sale. In truth, the ancestral home is in a very bad way and I fear it will be demolished for land. The London residence is a much more pleasant prospect and I sent my assistant to begin packing up the brothers' belongings, their studies and the like.

"He's a good man, Thompson, dependable I should say. But he came running back with his tail firmly between his legs. Quite terrified, the poor man, and spouting on about ghosts and ghouls. I've never heard the like before and I told him to get back there and do his duty. Oh, I've heard tell of restless spirits and I've entered a few places myself and wondered if things were quite as they might be - though I would not admit such thoughts to just anyone, Madame - but it's all nonsense when it comes down to it and the Good Lord keeps a good man safe.

"So I sent him back, though this time with a few boys to help with the heavy lifting. And what do you know, all of them come running back. Excepting one young lad who ran clean away; haven't seen hide nor hair of him since! Such nonsense you have never heard, Madame, I certainly never have.

"For they say that the Borlsover residence of Paternoster Row is possessed!"


	2. Chapter 2

See Part One for story details.

* * *

They stepped down from the Hansom and walked towards Paternoster Row with St Paul's Cathedral looming above the houses ahead of them. The cobbles of much of London had given way to macadem on the wide road, though it was cluttered with stalls on both sides. People and animals vied for the limited space with the cabs and carriages that rattled by. The noises and scents closed in on Vastra and Jenny took her arm, gently leading her through the melange.

The road narrowed again and they entered the more enclosed space that was the area immediately around Paternoster Row. There were less people here but the air was just as troubled by sound and smell. The buildings were all larger than those where the women lived but not so impressive as some they had visited in their previous investigations. Many of them housed shops and offices, mostly related to London's thriving publishing industry.

"I believe I understand why two academics might enjoy this part of London," Vastra said.

"Certainly no shortage of reading material." Jenny looked around, seeing the sign for Paternoster Row and easing Vastra onward. She smiled up at her friend, "I suppose you know why it's called Paternoster Row, Madame?"

Vastra's veil shifted around her face as she shook her head, "I confess, I do not."

Jenny's smile grew wider, "Well I never, something I know that the great Madame Vastra does not."

"You tease me, my dear."

"Only a bit, eh?"

"And the source of the name?"

"It's from the Lord's Pray. The clergy at the Cathedral used to walk down the Row on their way to work, so to speak, and they'd chant the Lord's Pray on the way."

"Fascinating," Vastra said in such a dry tone that Jenny laughed aloud, startling a young man who was walking by and to whom Vastra said, "Good day to you, Sir."

They turned into Paternoster Row and studied the houses carefully. They were large, tall homes set close-packed and somewhat ominous. Or was that simply the nature of the errand they were on? Vastra pointed out the Borlsover home and they stood in front of it, staring up at the building. There was something a little...disconcerting about it, Jenny thought and she tightened her grip on Vastra's arm.

Vastra patted Jenny's hand absently. She did not believe in "ghosts and ghouls" as Mr Milton had described them, yet there was something disturbing about the oddly dark windows. You are being ridiculous, she told herself firmly but still she and Jenny remained standing before the house.

"You reckon this could be more of our alien friends?" Jenny said.

"I do not know. I have no wish to entertain the notion of a haunting, yet, as your remarkable Bard had it, are there not more things in heaven and on earth?"

"And under it, it turns out," Jenny added.

"Quite, my dear, and very many things under it. No, I say we step forth with brave heart and deal with this matter once and for all."

They stepped up to the door. The painted wood was set with pretty rectangles of stained glass that gave no indication of what was beyond. Mr Milton had provided them with a key and Jenny pulled it from her coat pocket and opened the door. She half expected it to open with an ominous creaking sound but it swung noiselessly on its hinges and let them into the hallway. It had once been quite welcoming, though now it was marred by dirt and neglect. The formerly pale walls were darkened, the white wooden frames to the inner doors stained and peeling. The floor was dirty too and littered with papers.

"Well, that ain't so bad," Jenny began, "Needs a good scrub but this could be a very nice -"

And then the sounds began. First a scuttling, scratching sound, then an odd dragging noise that set Jenny's teeth on edge. The women looked around, trying to place the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming from everywhere...and nowhere too, as if the sounds came from the air itself. Then the scuttling was joined by another sound, like a heavy sack being pulled along the floor.

"Dear Goddess," Vastra said as the air was suddenly filled with a vile stench.

"Stinks like a charnel house," Jenny said, her arm coming up to cover her face as best she could. Muffled though it was, she added, "Where did that come from?"

Vastra had just been lifting her veil and recoiled in horror as the smell assailed her. She fought the urge to drop the veil again and instead looked around her. There were four doors off the main hallway and a staircase rising up ahead of them with two doors set behind it. One a smaller door, presumably leading down to the servants' areas of the house, the other a large door as ornate as the first four. All of the doors were closed and the staircase was unnaturally dark.

They needed to find the source of the stench, for surely there would be the source of the trouble. Vastra turned and tried the nearest door. It was locked. Jenny tried the door on the other side. It gave and Vastra joined her as she eased the door open and peered inside. It was a greeting room with two comfortable chairs that had once been covered with a pretty material, though both were now thick with dust and grime.

They returned to the hallway and Vastra made to go to the third door but Jenny pulled her back, "Reckon I can get that one open, Madame," she said of the first door Vastra had tested.

She did so, lockpicks appearing magically from her pockets and unlocking the door with ease. She opened it and beyond was a library, dark from the heavy cloth over the windows and the dark covering to the books that filled the long, high shelves. It was a double length room, the second door on that side could be seen along the wall and there was a desk at the far end.

Jenny shivered, though the room was not cold. It felt oppressive and grimy, yet it was the cleanest part of the house they had seen so far. The tall shelves loomed over them, the books crowded against one another, even the large window at the end of the room was covered by a more adhoc shelving arrangement that looked ready to tumble at any moment.

"No wonder this place is so dark," Jenny muttered.

The few empty surfaces around the room all held candlesticks, some attractively wrought, some oddly shaped. Jenny pulled matches from her pocket and struck one, the flare dancing in front of her eyes before she lit the half-used candle. She hefted the candlestick and turned to illuminate the room but the light seemed to be swallowed up by the very atmosphere of the house.

The scuttling came louder still, though it did not seem to originate in the room. There was a strange scratching noise as well and that dragging sound grew ever nearer. Jenny looked around wildly but could see nothing that might possibly be making the noise.

Vastra placed a calming hand on her shoulder, "I believe this may be a deliberate trap, my dear; perhaps the Brothers Borlsover were apt to protect their work with such pranks?"

"Pranks?"

Jenny shivered again and the candlelight danced around her. She handed the candlestick to Vastra and lit a second for herself, though still the light failed to fully penetrate the oppressive darkness. Vastra walked down the room, considering the books as she went. It was a strange collection of religious and academic texts - neatly bound in reds and greens for the most part - and darker, more obscure texts with rough covers that barely held the pages together. She pulled one such from its place and read the title, her back straightening as she did so.

"What is it, Madame?"

"I had not expected to find such a text, even in this house."

"Text?"

Vastra showed Jenny the book in her hand. It was old and the parchment within was barely held together by the thin leather cords that had been used to bind it. The rough-hewn clasps were verdigrised and clung to the leather by little more than habit.

She returned it to the shelf as carefully as she could and picked out another book, this one in a better state but just as unconventionally bound in fine chain that rattled as Vastra took it from the shelf. She opened it gingerly, the chain rubbing unpleasantly across her scales.

"Malleus Maleficioum," she read the title, "Hammer Of The Witches."

"I knew a woman when I was a girl who everyone thought was a witch," Jenny said.

"Indeed? And was she a witch?"

Jenny rolled her eyes, "I doubt it. A miserable old biddy, yes, but she couldn't conjure up a smile, much less a potion. She smelled a bit like this place too."

Vastra smiled, pleased that her friend seemed to be dealing with the situation so well. Better than she herself, since the vague feeling of unease that had been plaguing her since they entered the house was now almost overwhelming. She took a few deep breaths despite the stench and calmed herself. Jenny's presence helped enormously and Vastra looked down into the dark eyes and almost forgot about the strange book in her hands.

And then that horrible dragging sound came louder than before. Vastra returned the book to the shelf just as Jenny spun on her heels. She felt Jenny's body tense and turned quickly, the book barely safe in its place.

"Er, Madame," Jenny said but did not continue.

"Yes, it is," Vastra answered the unspoken question.

It was an arm.

An arm severed roughly from the body of a large man and buried for some little time since the skin was stained brown from the earth and the nails were caked with mud. Beneath the grime, the skin was pale, almost translucent and the muscles waning. The fingers, though, appeared strong enough to pull the encumbering limb behind it, hence the noise. Those same fingers skittered to one side, the arm swerving a little. The stump had been hacked through untidily, certainly not a clinical cut. The top of the arm was stained dark red, though no blood remained to spill from the wound. Dark, matted flesh and sharp bone jutted out from the socket, rotting and hideous.

The arm lay in the doorway through which they had entered and though they could easily step over it, neither woman thought to run from the room. Vastra studied the repulsive limb with a combination of horror and fascination that she would not wish to acknowledge to anyone but her companion. Jenny glanced up at her and then back to the arm.

"Reckon we could, er, kill it?"

The arm reared up on its fingers, the weight of the limb itself leaving the flesh quivering and bending but it remained in the air. Jenny thought there might have been a hissing but how the thing could make such a sound was beyond her. But then, all of this madness was beyond her.

"I do not believe it appreciates the suggestion," Vastra took a step forward and the stump of the arm curled towards her like a scorpion's sting, "or indeed our presence here."

"So what do we do?"

Vastra maneuvered them towards the centre of the room and the hand pulled its limb to continue to block their path. Jenny looked up at the bookshelf that stood against the wall between the two doors and realised what Vastra had in mind. They continued to make their way forward and to the side in a crabbing motion that also kept the arm twisting towards them.

At the faintest signal from Vastra, Jenny charged ahead and they both grabbed at the side of the bookshelf, yanking it towards them and feeling the weight of the books shift until they tumbled from the shelves. The arm reared again but the torrent of heavy books battered at it and then the equilibrium of the whole bookshelf tipped and the rest of its contents rained down on the severed limb, followed by the heavy frame itself.

Vastra and Jenny skipped back, a cloud of dust rushing around them and a few books bouncing on the floor at their feet. They both coughed, waving their hands to clear the air before their faces and then stared down at the pile of wood and books that now covered the arm. A few books twitched dangerously but then fell still. Vastra and Jenny waited. No further movements followed and they looked to each other with grim expressions.

"Should we get out or keep looking around?"

At Jenny's question there was a sudden hush around them, all the skittering, bumping, scratching noises that had filled the place gone and the air still. It was worse then the noise.

They left the library, pulling the door closed behind them before looking around. There were no more severed limbs lying around but the stench had increased, the sickly-sweet smell of decay that made a terrible sense now that they had witnessed the abomination in the library.

Vastra set herself for the fourth door but had only taken a step when a great howling sound rose up around them. It filled the hallway, a solid presence that seemed to crowd out the very air. Then the air returned in a great roar to buffet them, a gust of wind blowing down the hallway that lifted dust and papers alike. The detritus that littered the floor was suddenly all around them and Jenny felt the sharp paper edges scratching at her hands and face. She reached up and grabbed at the papers that danced in front of her eyes, crumpling them up in her fists and fighting against the solidity of the air to drag in tortured breaths.

She felt a strong hand on her back and panic washed through her. She was being dragged backwards towards the door before she realised that it was Vastra; the tall body suddenly at her back, a black-clad arm wrapping around her torso and making her feel protected.

Jenny was barely able to see through the clouded air of the hallway and then she was outside in a bright, if nippy London day, the air still and as clean as London ever could be. Jenny gulped it in as if she were breathing the purest air on Earth, blinking furiously to clear her streaming eyes of dust while she still leaned back into the comforting presence of her friend.

Vastra held Jenny until her shaking legs began to take her own weight once more. She ignored the people who walked by, no doubt casting them disapproving stares as was the want of so many of the humans when they saw their fellow man in distress. Vastra waited, holding Jenny close while she settled her own racing heart.

Jenny stood and turned a little, though she was still pressed close to Vastra as she looked up, "Well then, Madame."

"Well then indeed, my dear."

Jenny forced a smile, "Plan B, perhaps?"


	3. Chapter 3

See Part One for story details.

* * *

As their hired carriage jogged along the London streets, Jenny and Vastra settled into the back and tried to calm themselves. They were each still rattled by their experience in the Borlsover house but both somewhat embarrassed that they had not dealt with the situation more calmly. Now at least they would have some time to subdue their nerves; the asylum which entertained Charles Borlsover was some distance away in Hanwell and the journey would afford them a welcome respite.

For the second time that day Jenny spat on her handkerchief and rubbed at Vastra's dirty face. Vastra allowed the attention for a moment then swatted the hands away.

"I am not a child, my dear."

"You're as mucky as one," Jenny said and Vastra smiled at her, white teeth bright through the grey-green scales of her face, "and I dare say I am too."

"You are indeed," and Vastra took the cloth, wiping at Jenny's cheeks, "Those papers?"

Jenny had dropped the crumpled sheets between them as they bustled into the covered carriage. Vastra had been too busy throwing her already-askance veil over the hat and wishing that she had suggested returning home first, while Jenny was just happy to sit down for a moment. Neither woman had considered the papers at all.

Now they stared down at them for a long moment before Jenny reached for one and Vastra the other. Jenny read the few legible lines, squinting to try to discern the rest of the blurred ink that had been wetted by some fluid that had left a sharp scent to the paper, though no mark other than the blurring.

"I reckon this is from the Housekeeper's diary, Madame," Jenny said, tilting the paper so that Vastra could see it, "though it's terribly faded.

"It's about what Mr Milton said, that the maids had left under 'strange circumstances'. Listen to this: '...a hand of all things. A hand in the washing up and not her own! Ridiculous nonsense, of course, but the girl would not...' and then later, '...where Parfitt went Emma was sure to follow...and so it was, the girl claiming to have stood on a hand at the bottom of the stairs...Mr Charles' loose rat, no doubt, but Emma was...' Sounds like our friend back there scared the maids into leaving their posts."

Vastra considered the paper in her own hand. It was even more crumpled than Jenny's sheet but much less faded, almost all of the neatly written script legible where the harsh creases did not impair the paper too much. She too cocked her hand so that Jenny could view the page as she continued.

"And this is Charles Borlsover's own journal, largely intact, as you see.

"To wit: 'Such a strange occurrence today but one that will be the cause of some humour in times to come, no doubt.

'Eustace and I had been out to a lunchtime lecture (not a particularly good one, I might add, so I will say only that some Professors would best serve their cause by remaining quiet) and returned to find Houghton waiting for us as always. There was some small amount of household business to be dealt with and then he mentioned a parcel that had arrived. A box, in point of fact.

'Apparently, there had been noises (scratching and the like) emmanating from within and the Postman had most kindly taken it upon himself to bore a few holes in the top, thinking that it would be one of my live specimens. Indeed I am awaiting a six-toed rat that I intend to cross with the four-toed albino which I received some months past.

'At any rate, it was most kind of the man to think of such things and most cruel of my benefactor not to do so. The box in question had been placed on the desk in the library (Houghton remaining obstinately disinclined to enter my lab) and I went to it immediately, wishing to be quite sure of the health of the creature within.'"

Jenny interrupted her, "Wonder where this lab is in the house? Oh, sorry, Madame, as you were."

"You are most kind. Now then: 'I had taken out the screws before it occurred to me that I really should find a cage to place the creature into; the maids being somewhat squeamish about rats and the like. So I placed a heavy book atop the box, lid askance, and went for a cage. There came a terrible thump from the library just as I walked by the staircase and I hurried back to find the book on the floor, the lid cast aside also and the rat nowhere to be seen.'"

Vastra turned the paper over in her hand and continued, "'Heard it was, though, and a scratching, scuttling sound of an alarming volume. I followed it around the library but could never quite spot more than a flash of pale, apparently hairless skin (perhaps I am mistaken in the particular specimen that I have received?) and then it was gone once more.

'I gave a great halloo and Houghton and dear Eustace came running, both somewhat surprised at my clumsiness. Indeed, Eustace seemed most put out but then he was already most put out by the appalling nature of the lecture that we had attended. But however, his countenance gentled quite quickly, I am happy to say, and he joined in the search for our elusive visitor.

'Yet with even three of us on the hunt, it proved more than our combined powers to apprehend and the creature remained stubbornly hidden amongst the library's many books and cases. I pity our poor maids! For surely it will be one of them that the little scamp exposes himself to and I fear that the scream will be quite loud enough to wake the Good Lord himself.

'As you will surmise, we have left the creature to its fun. It was Eustace's suggestion, in point of fact (and a customarily pragmatical one) to allow thirst to force the little devil to venture out of its hiding places. Though, I fear for our precious books in the meantime; a single rat can do a surprising amount of damage to materials harder still than paper and leather.

'We shall see what we shall see, as Uncle Augustus would have it, and in the morning I will make another expedition into the library. Perhaps I might take the landing net with me!'"

"A box for a rat wouldn't be big enough for a whole arm," Jenny said.

"And I doubt very much that the limb we were threatened by was once only a hand. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"So someone sent Charles Borlsover a hand in the post. Not sure I'd like to have his friends."

Vastra considered the papers still clutched in their hands. Both hands remained pale and Jenny's still shook slightly. She glanced out of the carriage window and saw that they were passing through Knightsbridge. The carriage was warm enough but her scales still felt unnaturally cold. She disliked the sensation intensely.

Jenny watched her carefully, noting the pale green and the troubled expression with concern. She dropped the paper and pressed her hand to Vastra's arm, "Alright, Madame?"

"I believe your Bard might have had a point. I have heard of no creatures that can survive as single appendages. Though reptiles can often regrow severed tails and the like."

"Can you?" Jenny blurted out.

Vastra stared at her, "I would prefer not to find out, my dear."

"No, please don't. Even if we found you could, it would be a bit disconcerting."

"I will do my best to oblige. So," Vastra took a breath before she said, "someone, unknown, sends a severed hand through the postal system to poor Charles Borlsover. Due to a further misfortune, the hand roams free and causes some considerable fright for the household staff. Many leave, as Mr Milton told us, even the loyal butler Mr Houghton. Something then occurs in the house, presumably between the brothers, and results in Eustace Borlsover missing and Charles detained for the safety of himself and others."

"And the house otherwise occupied, don't forget."

"I will not be forgetting today in quite some time."

They sat in silence as the carriage continued to cut its path across London, both women watching the different Boroughs pass by and considering what they had seen at Paternoster Row. Eventually the buildings thinned out and more green areas took over until they were passing Elthorne Park and closing in on their destination.

Jenny sat up and tried to dust herself off as best she could. Vastra pulled her veil down and steadied her mind to focus on the problem at hand. When the carriage came to a halt outside the imposing Middlesex Lunatic Asylum, they stepped down with as much aplomb as they could muster.

Vastra bid the driver wait for them and they walked towards the entrance to be met by a tall, thin woman who studied them with obvious distaste.

"Do forgive our appearance," Vastra said in her most formal tone, "but we have suffered a mishap on our journey. I am Madame Vastra and this is my associate Miss Flint. And you are?" Vastra held out her hand to the woman.

It was taken after some hesitation, "Mrs Longfellow, the Matron. And your business here?"

"We wish to speak with Mr Charles Borlsover on a matter of some urgency. I appreciate that you would prefer that we make an appointment," Vastra got in before the woman could protest, "but this really is most important."

The Matron tutted at them but indicated that they should follow her and they entered the building through the impressive doors, stepping into a wide hall with a marble floor and a large desk set to the side. A nervous little man sat behind it and Jenny wondered for a moment if he was one of the inmates. She shook the thought away when he stood and displayed his well-cut suit as he bowed to them.

"Perhaps, Matron," Jenny said, "we might get ourselves cleaned up before we talk to Mr Borlsover?"

"Indeed," Vastra said, "it would be most pleasant to toilette, I feel quite shabby."

To her credit the Matron did not openly agree, though her expression said all that was necessary. She showed them to a small room just beyond the hall that housed a washstand, a jug of cool water and a block of harsh soap. When they left the room, the Matron was gone but a small, older man was waiting for them. He nodded politely and introduced himself as the Hospital's Superintendant. He was most particular about stating the word "hospital".

"Doctor Hallam, may we speak with Mr Borlsover?" Vastra said.

Hallam shifted nervously, making Jenny wonder if all of the staff looked like they should be committed to the place. His voice was still strong as he said, "I fear poor Mr Borlsover may not be able to comprehend much of what is asked of him, ladies. The gentleman is quite ill; raving about supernatural phenomenon and the like. A terrible case, quite the worst that we have ever seen here at the hospital."

"Yet we must attempt to speak with him, it is a most important matter and on the behalf of Mr Cornelius Milton himself."

Hallam acquiesced at the mention of the man who was handling the payment for Charles Borlsover's treatment. He lead them from the attractive marble foyer, through a heavily bolted door and into the heart of the asylum. It was considerably less welcoming and Jenny shivered, not just from the notable drop in temperature. Vastra felt her body react to the change and forced herself to remain focused. She looked to her friend and was alarmed by the paling of Jenny's skin. She was just reaching out her hand to touch Jenny's shoulder when Hallam stopped and opened the door beside him. It was bolted on the outside but made of wood, not the metal doors that Vastra could see further down the long, narrow corridor.

"I believe it might be best if you wait in here, ladies," Hallam said, indicating the room beyond, "I will have Mr Borlsover bought in to you. It may take a little time, however."

"Pray, keep the gentleman as calm as you can, Doctor."

Hallam looked doubtful but said nothing as he hurried down the corridor, leaving Vastra and Jenny to enter. It was a cold, cube of a room, housing only a small wooden table and four chairs. They took the two seats closest to the door and Vastra studied Jenny through the material of her veil.

"You are uncomfortable?"

"Not exactly a welcoming place, is it?"

"It is not," Vastra allowed, "yet I believe there might be more to your discomfort. You are still worried by the events of earlier?"

Jenny looked surprised, "I'd almost forgot about all that business."

"So it is solely this place that troubles you?"

"Thing is," Jenny looked around them, "I could easily have ended up in a place like this. Only not such a good one either."

"In an ayslum? Why on Earth would you be sent to such a place?"

"For being," Jenny blushed furiously and whispered, "different."

"Different?"

Jenny looked up at her friend and knew, even with the heavy lace of the veil between them, that Vastra was utterly flummoxed by the concept. And also very aware of Jenny's own anxieties.

"Not like everyone else, Madame."

"I understand the word, my dear, but surely all human's are individuals? You are not a cloned race, neither a brood race. Indeed, my sisters and I are much more alike than human siblings."

"You have sisters, Madame?"

"A great many, though not perhaps in the sense that you mean."

Jenny thought about a whole family full of tall, proud Silurian women like Vastra and was warmed by the image in a way she definitely shouldn't admit while sitting inside an asylum. Vastra watched the blush deepen but said nothing more. She looked around the room, giving Jenny time to compose herself before turning back to a slightly less glowing visage.

"It's just," Jenny dropped her eyes, struggling to hold back a wave of shame that she had sworn never to feel again, "I got kicked out of home because I got caught."

"Caught? You were stealing?"

"No I was not!" Jenny glared at Vastra, making her shift back in her seat as if struck. Jenny took a breath, "Sorry, Madame. No, I wasn't thieving nor anything like that. I was with a girl, see, and that's not the done thing. Not around here anyhow. Don't know what it's like for your people though," Jenny trailed off hopefully.

"Caught with a," Vastra repeated, stopping as she realised what Jenny was saying. Surely the girl knew that she was already aware of her nature and as comfortable with it as Vastra was with her own. More, perhaps, given her own people's opinions of their precious racial purity. Vastra leaned forward to place her hands over Jenny's where they fidgeted in her lap, "I will never allow anyone to put you in such a place, Jenny, most certainly not for that reason. Fear not, I -"

Jenny silently cursed as the door opened and Doctor Hallam entered. He glanced at the two women but most of his attention was on the three men who followed him into the room. Two were attendants dressed in plain suits who flanked a small creature in a drab uniform of the same pale grey as the walls, it hung from his shivering frame like sackcloth.

The little man was led to the other side of the table and pushed into one of the chairs. He barely lifted his head to the women and did not acknowledge them at all. The attendants took up station on either side of the man.

Vastra turned to Hallam, "Pray, Doctor, have your men wait outside. I have no doubt that Miss Flint and I can deal with Mr Borlsover ourselves. And do not let us keep you from the care of your other patients, please."

Hallam looked ready to protest but nodded after only a moment's hesitation and indicated that the men should leave the room. He studied Vastra intently but said nothing as he too left, closing the door behind him. Jenny glanced at Vastra, wondering yet again if she exerted some sort of control in these situations.

She set the thought aside and turned back to the poor little thing on the other side of the table. Still without lifting his eyes to them, he gave a pathetic little sigh and said, "I murdered my brother."


	4. Chapter 4

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Vastra and Jenny stared at him, not entirely sure that they had heard the man correctly.

"Murdered?" Vastra said.

"You didn't hack his arm off, did you?" Jenny added, earning herself a sharp twitch of Vastra's veil.

Charles Borlsover seemed to sink even further into himself as he nodded slowly, "You have been to the house."

It wasn't a question and he still hadn't looked up. He appeared older than his forty-four years and certainly less well-kempt than he would have outside of such a place. His voice, though quiet and slow, held the diction of a thoughtful, well-educated man. Vastra remembered the careful handwriting of the page she had read and wondered what sort of a man he had been beyond these walls.

"You received a parcel, did you not, Mr Borlsover? You believed it to be a six-toed rat?"

His head snapped up and his dulled eyes sparked bright for a second before his head drooped again, the light in his eyes fading as he sighed once more.

"It wasn't, was it?" Jenny said.

Vastra continued, hoping to spark life from the man again, "The escaped rat was, in fact, a hand. Do you know who would send you such a thing?" She waited but received only a quiet sigh. "The hand caused some consternation amongst your staff and they left. Until then, you and your brother had kept a welcoming home but something changed thereafter. You did not take on any more staff, Mr Borlsover. Pray, tell me why."

Jenny glanced at Vastra, then back to the little man who remained bent over the table. He had certainly been drugged, Jenny knew, and remembered stories of such places keeping all of their patients subdued with laudanum for the sake of an easy life for the staff, who then stole from the patients and treated the poor creatures appallingly. Her own potential incareration forgotten, Jenny wanted to reach over the table and shake the man until he woke up.

"If you talk to us, we might be able to get you out of here. Wouldn't you prefer to be out there?"

Now he looked up, his eye burning with fear and he screeched, "No!" loud enough to bring the attendants back into the room.

Vastra stood and spoke to them, explaining that Mr Borlsover had become over-excited but was quite calm once more. Which he was, though Jenny was shaking now. Vastra wondered if it was from the man's outburst or the thought that anyone might wish to remain in such a place. She stood behind Jenny and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder until she had calmed down as well.

"Forgive me, Sir," Jenny said, keeping her eyes locked on the man, though his were lowered once more. She continued in a conversational tone, "Can't say I blame you, after what we saw this morning. The smells and the arm and then it blowing a gale in the hallway. Bit inconvenient to say the least." Borlsover gave a faint chuckle but said nothing and Jenny talked on, "Lovely house, though, excepting the arm o'course. Only got to see the sitting room and the library, mind. Could you tell us about the rest of the place?"

Vastra settled back into her seat and watched as Charles Borlsover lifted his head slowly and stared at the two women. There was perhaps a faint sign of life behind the drug-addled eyes and Vastra hoped that Jenny could coax a little more from him.

"I expect there's a study or some such beyond the sitting room and then a dining room past the stairs," Jenny said in the same voice, "nice kitchen downstairs and servants quarters up top with bedrooms up the stairs. Is that it?"

Borlsover nodded slowly, his gaze far away as he remembered his home. From what Mr Milton had told them, Charles and Eustace Borlsover had lived almost all of their adult lives in the house on Paternoster Row, a house run for most of that time by the loyal Mr Houghton.

"And there was you and your brother and Mr Houghton and -"

Borlsover's eyes widened into a maddened stare and he gave a vague yelp as his hands lifted to cover his eyes, the fingernails digging into his balding scalp. He began to weep, his whole body shaking, his breathing ragged and painful.

Jenny jumped up, rounding the table and pulling the clawing hands away from Borlsover's face, the skin there bright red where it had been scratched and pulled. She struggled against his crazed shaking but held tight and kept his arms away from his body. Vastra rounded the table on the other side and stood behind the man, her hands clamping down on his shoulders.

"Steady now, Sir, steady eh?" Jenny cooed and he slowly calmed himself. His eyes now held a hint of the man Charles Borlsover once was and Jenny said, "There you are, Sir. You've had a terrible time of it, I know, but we need you to help us. We can't allow anything to happen to anyone else, can we? Best get this whole business sorted out once and for all."

Jenny looked up to Vastra and nodded encouragingly so she said, "Indeed, we cannot allow anyone else to get hurt, Mr Borlsover."

"And that includes us," Jenny smiled at the man to soften her words, "We've been hired to deal with this business and we need to know everything before we go back there."

"No!" Borlsover said, though not in the terrified screech of before, "You must not!"

"We must," Vastra said firmly.

He was calm now, limp again and Jenny gently placed his hands in his lap, settling the thick material of his uniform as neatly across his shoulders as she could manage. She felt an overwhelming urge to hug the man and before she could change her mind, she leaned forward and did just that. He remained limp in her arms for a moment, then leaned into the contact.

Vastra watched with some surprise and wondered if her friend had planned to do such a thing. She felt sure it was instinctive and considered the woman Jenny Flint might have been had she not been born into this bound up, restrictive era of human development. Vastra smiled at the thought.

Looking down, she found Jenny staring at her with a quizzical expression on her face. She had pulled away from Charles Borlsover and was sitting back on her haunches, her hands still loosely on the man's elbows. Vastra cursed herself for loosing focus in what could be a dangerous situation for them still.

Charles Borlsover didn't appear very danergous at the moment; he was crying silently, his head once more bowed, his whole frame shaking. Vastra felt a wave of pity for the man and determined to deal with the situation at Paternoster Row and find a way to free him from his mania.

Jenny straightened slowly and settled herself into the seat next to Borlsover. Vastra stood a little apart, watching the man carefully. They waited, silent for long minutes before he began to speak. His voice was low and shaky, this eyes never rising to look at either woman.

"It was the hand, in the box that arrived that day. That was when it began."

"And who sent it to you?" Vastra said when he did not continue.

It seemed that he would not speak again but then he said, "We caught it you see, Eustace and I, trapped it in the library. A hand," his entire frame shivered violently, "grey and petrified but moving! Like some awful geometer caterpillar, crawling, crablike on its fingertips. Never still, never quiet."

"But you caught it, eh?" Jenny said.

"We did. Eustace and I. Trapped it in the library, put it back in its box and locked it in the desk drawer."

"But it escaped again, didn't it?"

"It wrote a letter!" Borlsover gave a mirthless laugh, "A few sheets left in the drawer, an old pencil too. Got out of its box and wrote a letter in the dark. Pushed it out through the gap in the drawer and Houghton - poor, dear Houghton - thought it a note from Eustace or I."

"And the note said?" Vastra nudged him on.

"To tend to the rat that I had left inside. So he opened the drawer and the thing got clean away before Houghton had realised what it was."

"And then...?"

Another long pause before, "Then the rest began. The maids and Mrs Merritt. And then Houghton. Disappeared...but not gone." Borlsover's voice dropped low and the women had to lean in to the man to hear as he said, "And I broke my promise."

"Your promise, Mr Borlsover?"

Jenny added, "I'm sure you had good reason, Sir?"

"I entered, you see."

"Entered?"

"His study. Eustace. His study. We had the library together and I had my little labratory downstairs. Eustace had the study, locked and private. His space. We each had our space. Best to have your space when you share. How it had always been."

Vastra wondered if the man's mind had finely cracked but Jenny said, "It is best. I've let the Madame have a labratory too, though she almost blew the whole place up this morning so I'm wondering if it was such a good idea."

Borlsover chuckled, "And where is your space, little one?"

Jenny's lips quirked into a faint smile, though she said only, "Oh, I do alright," then, in a very gentle tone, "What was in the study, Sir?" Jenny had to hold on tight to Borlsover's arms as he rocked violently, "Easy, Sir, easy. There you go."

He calmed himself and then he hissed, "The book."

And that was it, Borlsover would say no more. No amount of coaxing from Jenny would bring him out of the dead stare that locked his eyes on the floor, his body rigid with fright. Eventually, Jenny declared that they would get no more from him and Vastra was forced to agree. She opened the door and invited the attendants to take the man away, urging them to be gentle with the poor creature, though she wondered if these men were capable of being gentle at all.

They remained in the room for some time, gathering themselves and saying nothing. Hallam returned and lead them back to the entrance.

"You're drugging him," Jenny said.

Hallam shrugged, "He is quite mad, as I'm sure you found. I trust he did not become violent; it is always a possibility in such cases."

Jenny made to say something and Vastra stepped in quickly, the pugnacious set to her friend's face warning her of what was to come. Instead, Vastra said, "In fact, Mr Borlsover was quite helpful, though obviously not himself. He will be able to leave though, at some point in the future?"

"We shall see," Hallam said, though he obviously thought not.

They returned to the carriage, Vastra thanking the Doctor and Jenny keeping her mouth shut tight. The day was already growing darker, even here where the pollution of the city was less obvious, and Jenny wondered that a single day could bring so much trouble. One of many days like that, she thought and wondered if the rest of their lives would be so exciting...and terrifying.

Vastra helped her into the carriage and she settled back into her seat as Vastra said a few last words to Hallam and then joined her. The driver whipped the horses and the carriage shuddered, the wheels turning slowly on the gravel of the ayslum's driveway and picking up speed until they were jogging along at a fair pace.

"I have ordered the driver to take us home, my dear. I believe we require some rest before tackling this problem afresh."

"And tomorrow?"

"And tomorrow we must find ourselves an expert in such matters."

"What, living dead bits?"

"Aptly put, though I was thinking more of an academic in the field of...theology?"

"Religion? No, we need," Jenny trailed off for a moment before her face brightened, "we need to talk to our Lucy."

"Our Lucy?"

"My cousin, Madame. She lives over Hackney way, though I've not seen her in a long while. She was always a bright girl, very good with her numbers and letters and that. The Nuns liked her too. Didn't really take to me, nor me to them, if I'm honest -"

"You do surprise me, my dear," Vastra put in.

Jenny ignored the interruption and continued, "- but they liked Luce. She went off to be a maid to this Professor bloke and he took to her. Much talk of her being his mistress, though I don't know what business that is of any one else. The family didn't approve, o'course, but Luce stuck to her guns. I don't know much about this chap, since I never got any chance to talk to her about him, but I do know that he's in that sort of line; theology and mythology and the like. If we need to talk to someone, I'd reckon he might be a good bet, at least for a start."

"Then start there we shall," Vastra said, "and I thank you for the suggestion. I confess that I did not know where we should begin."

"No, not our usual investigation at all," Jenny said. She felt suddenly exhausted, the heavy weight of fear and confusion pulling at her very bones. Without thinking, she slide across the carriage seat and rested her head on Vastra's strong shoulder.

"Just have forty winks, Madame, if you don't object," she said sleepily.


	5. Chapter 5

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed and staring at the wall opposite with unblinking eyes. She couldn't remember anything after she'd dropped her head to Vastra's shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. It must have been a long moment. With a second burst of confusion, she realised that she was in bed and dressed in her long nightgown. She had certainly not been wearing that in the carriage, which begged the question of how she had come to be in it now.

Before she could work up a good blush over that thought, the details of the day before came into sharp focus and embarrassment was thrust aside in favour of a deep, lingering fear that cooled her blush but still left her sweating. She remembered the house and the arm and then the small, shaking figure in the asylum with his whispered words, "I murdered my brother."

Then there was a gentle knock at the door and it opened to admit Vastra, a breakfast tray in hand. Jenny pushed all those thoughts aside and the blush promptly returned.

"Ah, you are awake, my dear, excellent. And looking most refreshed, I am pleased."

"Thank you, Madame. And thank you for this," Jenny considered the tray with a knowing eye. It was set almost exactly as she would have done it, though the bread was a little blacker than she might have served. Jenny didn't care, her stomach announcing that she was ready to eat before she could say anything. Jenny grinned, "I believe my belly says thank you too."

"It is most eloquent," Vastra said with a smile. She sat down on the edge of Jenny's bed, aware that this was not quite proper but wanting to remain, "You are feeling better?"

"Much, thank you. Better for some food too, no doubt. Er, Madame," Jenny said in as calm a tone as she could muster, "how exactly did I get to be in bed, in my gown and all?"

Vastra watched her face, enchanted by the reddening skin as she said, "You were quite exhausted by our day and fell asleep in the carriage. I did not wish to wake you from such a deep slumber so I simply carried you inside when we arrived home. I thought you might be uncomfortable sleeping in your day clothes and you humans seem quite squeamish about your unclothed form, so I helped you out of your dress and into your sleepwear. I trust that was acceptable?"

Jenny's skin flared so hot that Vastra wondered if her own blood might reach its optimum temperature from proximity alone. She was teasing her young friend, she knew and also knew that it was a little unfair of her but there was something adorable about Jenny's flustered expression that urged her on.

"Well, Madame," Jenny stuttered, "you really shouldn't have troubled yourself. Though, thank you kindly," she added in a rush.

"You are most welcome. Now," Vastra took pity on her and said, "this cousin of yours, you believe that she will be of assistance?"

"Oh, I reckon she'll be fine, though I can't speak for her Professor."

"And does her Professor have a name?"

"I'm sure he must, Madame," Jenny smirked, adding, "but I couldn't say as I know it. The family got a bit funny when Luce decided to stick with him and I've not heard anything of her since. At least not from family, though I've heard a few things on the grapevine. They live over Hackney way - quite a nice house from what I've heard - and he's an academic, though I heard he's a bit of a queer one too, bit funny about people and that."

"Do you think we will be welcomed?" Vastra said.

"Reckon Luce won't be too troubled to see me and we can ask her to introduce us to her chap, if she thinks he'll see us."

"Then that is as it shall be."

Jenny munched down the last piece of toast and gulped at her still-hot, though slightly weak tea before handing the tray back to Vastra. "Thank you kindly for that, Madame, much appreciated. I'll be with you in a jiffy."

Vastra took the tray and her dismissal with a smile and left the room without looking back at Jenny's still shining face.

She waited downstairs, busying herself with the morning's post and with considering all that the previous day had bought while Jenny changed. Soon enough, the younger woman bounded down the stairs, taking her hat and coat from the stand immediately.

"You ready then, Madame? I've been waiting hours!" she called out in a teasing voice.

"How could I keep you waiting so, my dear?" Vastra joined her at the door, Jenny helping her with her overcoat before handing Vastra her veil, "Most kind. Hackney, yes?"

Jenny nodded her confirmation as they left the house and Jenny pulled the door securely closed behind them. Vastra hailed a cab and they bundled themselves inside, Jenny giving the directions but not to Hackney at all.

"Need to ask for the exact address, Madame, so they'll just be a bit of a detour."

Which didn't last long as Jenny jumped down from the cab to speak to a whizzened old creature - Vastra wasn't sure if it was male or female - for only a few minutes and then returned to Vastra's side. She looked particularly young and happy this morning, Vastra thought and supposed that it was from the prospect of seeing her cousin again.

"My dear," Vastra started carefully, "I trust that your cousin does not share the opinions of the rest of your family; they do seem to tend rather towards the intolerant, if you don't mind me saying so."

Jenny's happy expression fell away for a moment but she perked up again and said, "I don't reckon Luce'll care much about that. It's not like they treated her with much kindness, is it?"

Vastra hoped that she was right and determined to remove them from the woman's company at the slightest hint of acrimony. The carriage jogged along as the two women sat in silence until it slowed once more and they stepped down into the bustle of people, the shouts of traders and the clattering of carriages on Homerton High Street.

"We've just got to turn off over there, Madame, Sutton Place" Jenny said and took Vastra's arm, "Our Luce's Professor is one Jeremiah Hoogstraten and they keep house," Jenny looked down the long terrace of Georgian houses, "there."

It was a pleasant house, a little smaller than the Borlsover residence and set at the very end of the row. They approached, walking up the few steps to the door and ringing the bell. They waited for a moment before it was opened by a liveried young man with a pinched face.

He greeted them formally and Vastra offered her card while Jenny explained her relationship with Lucy Flint. The lad bid them enter and settled them in the sitting room while he went to find his mistress. Jenny's happy countenance gave way to a worried expression that remained even when the door opened and a small woman entered. She was a little shorter than Jenny and fairer in colouring, though with the same shaped face and the same dark eyes.

The woman stopped in the doorway, staring at Jenny with an unreadable expression. Vastra prepared to grab Jenny's arm and walk them out of the house before the woman could say or do anything to upset her friend. Instead, the newcomer's face broke into a broad grin and she gave a shriek of delight.

The woman opened her arms and rushed towards Jenny, wrapping her in a hug that had Jenny laughing in relief and holding on in return. When the women parted, Vastra watched them consider each other carefully, then laugh again at what they saw.

"As I live and breath," the woman said in a voice more cultured than Jenny's but not so very different, "Jennifer Marie Flint."

"Hey," Jenny said warningly, "just Jenny, if you please, Lucinda May Flint."

Vastra smiled at the teasing but felt an odd stab of pain too. Were she not the fine Silurian warrior that she had been raised to consider herself, she might think the sensation something akin to jealousy. But that, Vastra told herself firmly, was a ridiculous notion and one not to be considered; she was happy for her friend and would welcome this new part of her life.

The two women hugged again before they turned to Vastra. Jenny introduced them formally but Lucy stepped up to Vastra and held her gloved hands warmly.

"It really is most lovely to meet you, Madame. I thank you for taking such good care of my cousin," she glanced back at Jenny, her expression shifting to sadness, "for I have heard that my Uncle treated her cruelly and I would not have that be so for all the world."

"Nor I, I assure you. And it is my pleasure to meet a member of the Flint clan, as it were."

"Oh, not much of a clan now, I'd say, but I'm very glad to see my old Jen again. You will take tea with me, won't you?"

They accepted the invitation and Lucy insisted that they move into the little room that they had recently added to the back of the house, overlooking the small but beautifully tended garden. The room seemed to bring the garden into the house, as full as it was with large, exotic plants in tubs set carefully around them. They settled into the comfortable seats that shared a low table and Vastra looked around approvingly.

"I believe such a room would be most beneficial to our own abode, my dear."

"Oh, I'm glad you approve, Madame Vastra," Lucy piped up before Jenny could answer, "as it was my idea. Professor Hoogs - for that is what I call the Professor," Lucy explained with a faint blush, "when not in too formal company - is not much taken with flowers and the like and so I have this little room and my little garden to potter away in."

"It is most lovely," Vastra said politely, though she was obviously distracted.

Jenny studied her friend carefully, aware that she was troubled by something but not at all sure what. She agreed with Vastra's sentiment and chatted away with Lucy, hoping to hold her attention until Vastra came back to herself.

"...so now that's what we do," Vastra heard Jenny say when she had shaken off her momentary disquiet, "investigate all the funny goings on that the Police can't or won't sort out."

"Well that'll keep you in work; the Police are always to be seen here abouts but they never deal with anything that actually needs dealing with."

"They do so all too rarely, I fear," Vastra agreed with a smile.

Lucy smiled back, glad that her cousin's strange friend seemed a little more relaxed now. She wondered what they would make of the Professor, himself a strange fellow, and that gave her a thought, "You're here on one now, aren't you?"

"On one?" Jenny said.

"On one of your investigations? Is that it?" Lucy laughed and leaned towards Jenny, "Oh, I know it is; you always had that shifty look when you got caught on something. Don't be shy, Jen, I'm just glad something's bought you both here. Come on, have another cup of tea and tell me what's what."

Jenny glanced at Vastra and received a faint nod in agreement before she said, "We've been asked to sort out this house, over in Paternoster Row -"

"Near the Cathedral?"

"That's the one. Anyway, this place was owned by two brothers, academics, and they went a bit funny -"

"Funny, how?"

Jenny suppressed a sigh. She was beginning to understand how annoyed Vastra became when she was constantly interrupted during one of her explanations. She consciously kept her eyes away from her friend, knowing that her smirk would be clear, even through the heavy material of the veil.

Instead, she continued, "One brother went missing and the other's gone quite mad."

"My," Lucy said, sitting back in her seat to consider what she'd been told, "You think it's something supernatural. That's why you're here, you think my Professor can sort it out for you?"

"Not exactly," Vastra said, "We do not require the good Professor to sort out the matter, as you say, but rather to offer his advice. I confess, I have no experience of such," Vastra considered her words, "issues."

"And by issues," Jenny laughed, "Madame means terrifying occurrences that send you running."

"Never knew anything send you running, Jenny Flint."

"Turns out there are a couple of things that can," Jenny said in a low tone.

"Don't you worry about that now," Lucy leaned forward again to pat Jenny's knee, "Let's sort out one beastly thing at a time, shall we? You hold on here and I'll go to see if the Professor is about."

They watched Lucy leave the room before Jenny's eyes settled firmly on Vastra, "What is it, Madame?"

"What is what, my dear?"

"Something's troubling you. Is it Lucy? You don't like her?"

Vastra raised a hand to ward off Jenny's ire, "On the contrary, she is quite charming."

"Then what?"

"Do you remember the stationary seller that we met in Belgravia?"

Jenny thought back to their investigation for Carter Lawrie, "Sal Kelly?"

"The same. Now, do you remember what he told us?"

"About the Docks, Madame, and about the new boss thereabouts, the one who turned out to be that," Jenny dropped her voice, "Teril-thingy."

"Terileptil, yes. But Mr Kelly mentioned another name, do you remember it?"

Jenny closed her eyes, thinking back to the man's information, "There was something about some queer fella."

"One Hoog-somethingorother, as Mr Kelly described him."

Vastra watched Jenny, waiting to see if the young woman would draw the same troubling connection that she herself had done.

Jenny's brows shot up suddenly and she stared hard at the veiled face, "You can't think this Hoog-bloke is Lucy's Professor? Surely not?"

"I rather hope not, my dear, but I fear it is a possibility. The name Hoogstraten is not a common one in this city, surely?"

"Shouldn't think so. I hope it ain't him, that'd be -"

Jenny stopped as Lucy returned to the room. She smiled at the women but there was an edge of worry to her expression that only served to increase Jenny's concern.

"The Professor would be happy to speak with you, ladies, though he doesn't have a great deal of time. I do hope you won't find him too impatient, honestly he isn't like that usually but he does get caught up in his work. And," she paused, the worry showing even more clearly around her eyes, "well, some do find the Professor a bit of a queer fish, as it were -"

"Queer fish?" Jenny blurted out.

"Oh, don't worry, Jen, he's not at all like that really. He's just a bit different, being a foreign gentleman and all. Just take him as he is, eh?"

"We will of course. You are most kind to assist us," Vastra said, her eyes barely leaving Jenny's ashen face.

Lucy led them from her little room and back through the house to a large study that was lined with bookshelves and had a long workbench against one wall. A small, trim man stood by the desk, his back turned towards them.


	6. Chapter 6

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Vastra considered the man as he turned around. She was aware of Jenny's rising tension and the worry that nagged at her cousin. Professor Hoogstraten was a small, lithe man, pale to the point of appearing ill and with large, lashless eyes that nevertheless remained unblinking. The effect was most disconcerting. He considered first Lucy and Jenny together before settling on Vastra. She felt a faint chill run through her and forced herself to set aside such nonsense. She had, after all, met much worse than this man. At least, she hoped that she had.

"Madame Vastra? A pleasure," Hoogstraten said, offering her his hand in a telling breach of etiquette.

Vastra took it and even through the material of her glove she could feel the cold of his skin. She noticed that his eyes were a matte blue and utterly dry, as if no tear had fallen from them in all of his thirty or so years. He spoke with a European accent but not one that she could identify. There was certainly some Belgian in there but there was something else, something that gave his tone a coldness that matched the man himself.

"The pleasure is mine, Professor, you are most kind to speak with us on such short notice."

"Not at all, I am most pleased to have a chance to meet with the great Madame Vastra herself. You will not remove your veil?"

"I will not," Vastra said in a very firm tone.

"As you wish."

He spoke the words as if he had won some sort of victory and Jenny recognised immediately that Vastra was annoyed by that. She offered her own hand to the man and forced herself not to shiver as the cold, dry flesh pressed into her naked palm.

"Jenny Flint, Sir, Lucy's cousin, I'm most pleased to finally meet you."

"Ah, another Flint, how charming."

He didn't sound charmed at all. Jenny thought that he mostly sounded bored and a little bit annoyed. She had been feeling pleased for her cousin, landing on her feet as she had and with a man that Jenny had thought Lucy loved. Now she looked from one to the other and saw barely more interest in Lucy from the man than he had in herself or Vastra. Worse still, Jenny had ascribed Lucy's nerves to introducing her cousin to her lover but now that she looked more closely, Lucy still seemed to be nervous. She certainly wasn't relaxing any, appearing tense and pale in a way that Jenny had never seen from her when she was a girl.

"Professor," Vastra said, aware of the troubled currents running through the room, "Miss Flint and I would be most grateful if you were to offer some advice on a matter of a difficult nature?"

"Something that such a great detective cannot deal with alone?" he said in a mocking tone.

Vastra's back straightened and she had a sudden fear that Jenny might actually strike the man. Her hand shot out and clamped down on the younger woman's shoulder with a little more force than she had intended. The gesture did not go unmissed by their hosts.

"I never work alone, Professor. But, indeed, there are areas of interest to you that Miss Flint and myself have yet to explore."

"You speak of my work in the occult, Madame?"

"I do. Pray, if a house were, shall we say, taken over by malevolent forces, what would be the best policy in ridding it of the same and freeing any affected individuals of their lingering malady?"

"What an interesting question. You will not be more specific?"

"I fear I cannot. Though I can say that I believe the study of such forces was the root cause of the current situation. Mixed, alas, with some underlying sibling rivalry or perhaps plain hatred."

"Hatred is rarely plain," Hoogstraten said.

The man was smiling at Vastra and Jenny felt her skin begin to itch in reaction to his strange voice and appearance. She wanted to grab Lucy's hand and walk her out of the house immediately. Carry her out, if necessary. Jenny studied her cousin carefully, checking every inch of exposed skin for the signs of bruising; the way she held herself for signs of hidden abuse. There didn't seem to be any, in fact her cousin looked more healthy than she had as a child. Her skin was clear, her eyes bright. Her nerves were making her paler than she had been when they first entered the house but other than that she looked the picture of a happy - if not entirely legitimate - woman of the house.

Lucy turned to Jenny, casting her a nervous smile and Jenny could see nothing that indicated more than a knowledge that her lover was a strange sort of chap who might offend her guests. Jenny hoped that she was right, for she would not wish to see her cousin hurt and swore to protect her if she could.

Jenny turned back to Vastra and Hoogstraten to hear the latter saying, "I believe that you may be referring to the unfortunate Borlsover Brothers, Madame."

"I may be, Professor."

"You know that they attended my lecture about, oh, two months ago I should say. The lunchtime lecture, Lucy?"

"A little more than that, Professor."

Jenny snapped her jaw shut with an audible click and saw Vastra's veil twitch as if the woman was smiling. Hoogstraten obviously sensed the reaction but said nothing, the pale blue of his eyes dulling a little in what might have been anger or mere curiosity.

"Oh really, Sir," Jenny said, "and did you have chance to speak with them?"

"I did not, they left rather quickly after the lecture ended, perhaps in a hurry to attend another appointment. I am, however, aware of Eustace Borlsover's work in both the areas of ancient religions and the darker sides thereof."

He went on to explain his own work in both areas and Jenny thought that Charles Borlsover had been right; that for some Professors, saying less was definitely the best policy. Yet it was hard to know why his words grated so deeply, especially when so much of what he said was fascinating.

"So you're saying that one of the Borlsovers could have worked out how to," Jenny shrugged, "wake up the dead."

"I believe it a possibility," Hoogstraten preened, "I believe it a very real possibility that certain sorcerors of old did just that."

"You believe that Eustace Borlsover is not missing but dead and risen again?" Vastra said, adding "And an explanation has been offered for this?"

She had not told Hoogstraten of Mr Borlsover's confession or of the arm that had menaced them at the house but he was explaining both without knowing either. Jenny looked at her cousin and realised what had caused her nervousness. It wasn't that she thought Hoogstraten might be anything more than impatient with them or that he had been anything less than accomodating to her, simply that she feared they'd think him mad. And he did sound mad, unless you'd seen a dead arm running around scaring people.

Hoogstraten smiled, "I study the unknowable, Madame Vastra, for the very reason that it is considered unknowable. I do not seek explicit answers to such things from others, I seek to discover them for myself; for once something is explained then there is nothing of interest in it for me. Such things might as well be disposed of."

"I believe that such things should be explained to all, Professor, for when they are explained, they can be dealt with accordingly."

"And how would you deal with this matter?"

"I wish to free the Borlsover residence of this malignant force and Charles Borlsover of his mania."

"Then I wish you luck," Hoogstraten said, though still in that infuriating tone.

He moved to a bookshelf on the other side of the room and looked through a line of books. For a moment Jenny thought that they had been dismissed from his mind but Lucy remained in place and so Vastra and Jenny did the same. Jenny took the opportunity to glance at the workbench that seemed out of place in the otherwise respectable study. It ran along the only wall not boasting bookshelves or window, set the length of the room and standing quite high, up to Hoogstraten's waist at least.

Most of the bench was clear, just a few tools scattered about here and there, but there was a beautifully inlaid mahogany box with its lid standing open. Inside, sitting neatly in a red velvet lining, were a collection of strange instruments that Jenny only partially recognised. They were all beautifully made of brass and polished steel. Cogs, wheels and dials were set around a plunger of sorts and what might have been a spirit level.

"I see you're admiring my newest piece, Miss Flint."

Jenny looked up to find that Hoogstraten had returned to the side of his desk with three books held in front of him in both hands. He nodded towards the box and his pale eyes seemed to brighten just a little.

"What is it, Sir?"

"I have no idea," he said gleefully, "no idea at all."

It was the most excited he had been since they had met him and it made Jenny feel even more uncomfortable, "It is beautifully made," she allowed.

"Oh, beauty is irrelevant; such notions a waste of one's time. No, I own it precisely because I do not understand it. I have every dealer in London finding such pieces for me. It is a hobby, I suppose you might say."

"And if they were to be explained, you would simply discard them?" Vastra said, a deep note of suspicion in her voice that troubled Jenny more than their host.

"Exactly so, Madame. Here," he handed the books to Vastra, "the first is Eustace Borlsover's last discourse on the role of the sorcerer in the religious life of the early man; the second, what one might call an introductory guide to the subject; the third a short piece on the dangers inherit in such studies. I trust that you will return them the next time you visit with my companion?"

"We will, Professor," Vastra said, "and I thank you for your generosity with both your time and your library."

"I am happy to assist," Hoogstraten said, though his mind was obviously elsewhere. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time, "Yet I must away, ladies, Lucy."

They thanked him again and left the study while he bustled around gathering more books. Lucy offered them another cup of tea but Vastra declined, insisting that they should leave for Paternoster Row. Jenny asked for a moment to speak with her cousin in private and Vastra stood by the door, the young servant who had greeted them helping her on with her overcoat and holding the books as she waited.

"I hope you didn't find him too strange, Jen."

"He was charming and very helpful, I'm sure," Jenny said.

"I've known you a long time, Jennifer Flint," Lucy smiled sadly, "so don't you give me that."

Jenny took Lucy's hand in her own, "You are all right here, aren't you? He's not, well, you know...?"

"Not what?" Lucy pulled her hand away, "Just because he's a funny sort of chap, doesn't make him a danger, does it?"

"I didn't mean..." Jenny hesitated, "Well maybe I did. I'm just worried you're getting in with someone who's a bit, well, odd."

"Unlike you, you mean?"

The women stared at each other for a moment and then both gave a bark of laughter that had Vastra and the footman looking over in surprise. Jenny gazed at Vastra's coated and veiled form and accepted the truth of her cousin's words.

"Fair enough. You just take care of yourself, eh? And if you need anything or you just want to visit, you come along and see me."

"You too and make sure you plan to stay for dinner when you return those books."

Jenny agreed and hugged her cousin tight before they joined Vastra at the door, Lucy helping Jenny with her coat and bonnet before they hugged again. Outside, Jenny turned back to the door and waved as Lucy herself closed it, then they walked on to find a cab.

"You want me to carry them for you, Madame?" Jenny said, indicating the books in Vastra's arms.

"I believe I can manage, thank you. Though, I would like a few moments to peruse these before we return to Paternoster Row."

"There's the church over there," Jenny pointed to the steeple that peaked out between the rooftops, "Bound to be somewhere to sit for a minute."

They walked back down the terrace and turned towards the church, an impressive Norman edifice that stood in its well-tended grounds with a cemetry beyond. As they strolled down the drive that lead along the side of the Nave, Jenny pointed out a bench that stood out of view of the road.

They settled themselves down, Vastra taking Eustace Borlsover's treatise, Jenny taking the pamphlet that warned against such studies. She noticed Vastra studying the church and raised a brow in question when the veiled face turned towards her.

"I have always found these buildings fascinating, my dear, but somewhat baffling also; why must you humans congregate to have faith? Surely faith is displayed every day, is it not? In the way you act and react to your fellow man?"

"You'd like to think so, wouldn't you? Not sure it's quite like that with us humans, though. What about the Silurians, don't you have a religion?"

"We do, indeed more than one depending on the subspecies to which you refer. I myself have a deep faith in the Goddess Lacertida, though I admit that it has been sorely tested at times. But then, is it truly faith if it has not been tested?"

Jenny studied her friend for a moment, taking it all in as best she could. She smiled, "Wouldn't really know, Madame, not much for these things, as I've said."

"So you have. I apologise if my mentioning faith offended you."

"Oh, no, not offended at all. I'm happy to hear of your people. Subspecies, Madame?"

"Ah, that is something of a long story and perhaps one better left for a quieter moment. For now," Vastra indicated the books, "we have to get to work. Speak up should you read anything that might be of use to us."

They bent over their books for a while, Jenny reading more slowly than her friend but happy that she could keep up with the long words and winding sentences of her text. It was boring enough to put anyone off studying the occult but she plowed on until something caught her eye.

"Madame?" she said, waiting for Vastra to lift her head before continuing, "what was it you used to blow your lab up yesterday?"

"I did not use it deliberately to that effect."

"Well no, I'm very glad to hear it but still, you said you'd not mix something again. I'm sure I'd remember what it was, if it wasn't for the smoke in my eyes and the ringing in my ears and that."

Vastra's sigh shifted the veil around her mouth but she said, "Saltpetre, my dear, I will be more careful with the administration of the same in future."

"Best read this then," Jenny passed the book to Vastra, her finger remaining on a particular spot on the page until her friend swatted it away. Jenny grinned, "At least our own home will be safe from ghosts and ghouls now; you've pre-cleansed it, Madame."

"What a relief, my dear."

Vastra handed the book back to Jenny but spoke up before she could return to her reading, "I fear that Eustace Borlsover was quite smitten with the study of these 'dark arts'. Quite smitten indeed. In regard to these ancient sorcerers that he is so taken with: '...stronger even in death than most men in life and able to return to life stronger yet.'"

Jenny thought for a moment. "Anyone going here," she indicated the church with a raised finger, "would call that heresy...or blasphemy...or something. Anyway, that's the sort of thing they'll throw you out of your posh club for. Worse still, if they found you'd tried it out. On a hand, maybe?"

"Testing the waters, as it were? Perhaps so."

"But why send it to your brother?"

"Or was the hand actually for the other Borlsover, sent as proof that it was indeed true; that man could be resurrected, at least in part."

"Big parts, it turns out. So the hand runs rampant and Mr Eustace has to admit to Mr Charles just what he's been up to," Jenny said as she thought it though.

"Charles Borlsover, being a man more of science than the supernatural, is rightly suspicious. But would he be maddened to the point of murder?" Vastra continued.

"The hand did scare his whole household away...or worse. And then there's 'poor Houghton', as Mr Charles said."

"Houghton remains when the rest of the staff have left but sides with Charles, Eustace is enraged and kills Houghton, Charles in turn is enraged and kills Eustace."

"Then Eustace makes a reappearance. One piece at a time," Jenny said.

"And Charles is sent quite, quite mad from it all," Vastra finished sadly.

They sat in silence for long minutes, staring at St John's Church and its pretty surrounds. It was a world away from everything they were contemplating. Or perhaps not so very far at all.

"They do say Jesus rose again, Madame. All in one go, mind, but still."

"And is it not told that Sister Squamata stepped reborn from the flames?"

Another pause and then Jenny said, "Not quite the same thing though, is it?"

"I certainly hope not, my dear. Now," Vastra stood and took up all three books, "let us find a cab and return home. We shall arm ourselves -"

"No pun intended, I'm sure," Jenny put in.

"- and return to Paternoster Row."


	7. Chapter 7

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny twitched alittle as she sat in the cab. She had shifted her clothes while Vastra busied herself in her labratory, donning the new outfit that had been made for her. She had never worn tailor-made clothes before, only clothes made by her own hand or shop-bought, inexpensive garments. She felt somewhat uncomfortable with the notion but enjoyed the feel of the well-cut material beneath her usual overcoat and bonnet.

Beside Jenny, Vastra too wore new attire beneath her long coat. A long skirt and peasant blouse with a fitted waistcoat that suited her very nicely, Jenny thought as she considered her friend. Vastra sat still, careful not to allow the package at her feet to jostle too much with the movement of the cab. They were going to have to get their own transport, Vastra had decided, something with considerably better underpinnings than a simple fly. She wished that they had been able to provide themselves with hand weapons as well but for reasons that neither she nor Jenny could comprehend, they had never thought to attain any.

Jenny indicated the bag with a tilt of her head, "You alright with that, Madame?"

"Somewhat nervous, I admit. At least we are almost there. You are sure you wish to do this, my dear?"

"You ain't going in there alone, if that's what you mean."

"No indeed, I would not wish to."

The cab came to a halt close to Paternoster Row and they walked the last part of their journey in silence. The house looked exactly as it had when they approached it the day before but it felt very different to them both. Jenny pulled the key from her pocket as they took the steps up to the door, turning the lock with a slow, deliberate motion.

The door required more effort to open this time and for a moment Jenny wondered if it had been barred from within. Then she put her shoulder to it and the door gave with a scraping noise. As she squeezed through the gap, Jenny felt the floor shift beneath her feet and looked down to see that the papers that had been blown about them yesterday had gathered at the door itself, impeding its movement.

She stepped a little further in and Vastra joined her. They shunned their coats and headwear immediately, leaving them by the door. Vastra hefted the small, leather bag that had been between her feet during their cab journey, pulling the strap over her neck and shoulder. The air was heavy with the stench of rotting flesh but there was no sign of a creeping arm or any other animate body part.

"The study, Madame?" Jenny whispered.

Vastra nodded and lead the way past the sitting room to the further door. They waited outside, listening for an sign of movement within. When they heard none, Vastra nodded again and Jenny pulled her lockpicks from a waistcoat pocket.

Vastra considered her friend's new outfit as she worked. The tight breeches and waistcoat were dark, the shirt white. It was something of a negative to the clothing that the Felinoid had worn in the warehouse of the Terileptil but Jenny wore it in a much more pleasing fashion. A grunt of triumph escaped Jenny's lips and the door opened a fraction.

Vastra set all other thoughts aside as Jenny opened the door a little further. She reached into the bag, her hand taking hold of the first small, round device that it found. But there was no sound or movement from within and Jenny opened the door fully. The room was dark, utterly devoid of light in a manner that seemed to have a weight to it. It was cold too, the frigid air cooling Vastra's blood.

"Blimey," Jenny said.

Vastra heard the rustling of her friend's clothing and then the scratching hiss of a match as it was lit. She wrinkled her nose at the sharp scent of white phosporous surrounded them, oddly concerned that the chemical could harm Jenny at a time when so much around them might do far worse.

She cast her concerns aside and looked around as Jenny made for a nearby candlestick and lit it. She held it up to illuminate as much of the room as she could and they saw a large lectern in the centre of the study with the outline of a desk behind it, cabinets and bookshelves stood around them.

There was another candlestick and Jenny lit it from the first, settling both on the small desk so that the light washed across the lectern and over the other furniture. She looked down and noticed that the floor around the lectern was heavily marked with what appeared to be chalk. Though it didn't seem to be scuffed at all, even though she had walked over that area on her way to the desk. The lectern too was marked, strange carvings vying with more chalk-like lines to trouble the eye. The whole thing seemed to be shifting in her vision and Jenny struggled to pull her gaze from the sight.

"Jenny, do look at me," Vastra waited until Jenny's eyes settled on her own, "this house will not defeat us. If you can think of nothing else, thing of that and know that it is true."

Jenny dragged herself back, "Too bleedin' right," she managed a faint smile, "Though I'd feel much better with something to use in a fight. No sign of this head," she said as an afterthought, "and I don't expect that walked away on its own. At least I hope not."

"Let us look around but do not touch anything that concerns you, my dear."

"I'll not be touching anything in this place then," Jenny muttered but she turned to the desk to investigate its contents.

Jenny had barely shuffled though a third of the papers that littered the desk when Vastra made a dismayed sort of sound from behind her. She turned to find Vastra standing before the lectern, staring down at the large tome that was set in place. Jenny joined her and stared at the book.

It was closed, the heavily decorated cover dulled with age but it's finery still evident. It had once been a deep black colour in some sort of dense hide with intricate gold patterns neatly inlaid across its whole surface. The huge gold hinges were dulled too but from the pressure of human fingers opening and closing the book; the marks of countless owners over the years.

There was no title or author noted on the cover and Jenny wondered what had troubled Vastra so. She waited, aware that asking the question aloud might trouble her friend even more.

After a long pause, Vastra said, "I fear I know this text, my dear. A most unfortunate tome and one, alas, that my people may have had a hand in."

"Silurians wrote this?"

"Not wrote, no, simply...encouraged, one might say."

"And exactly what is it, Madame?"

"I believe that it is," and Vastra's voice dropped low, "the Kitab al-Azif or, as you might better understand it: the Necronomicon. Written by -"

"Some bloke with a funny name. Wormy or something," Jenny interrupted her.

Vastra stared at her, "How on earth would you know such a thing?"

"There's a copy in the library," Jenny hitched her thumb over her shoulder to indicate the door, "Not as fancy as this, though."

"No, it would be a translation by one Alaus Wormius. The original was in a rare Arabic dialect and was written by the 'Mad Arab' himself, Abdul Alhazred, influenced by my own people."

"So what does it say exactly?"

Vastra reached out and touched the very edge of the cover with her fingertips. She eased it up barely an inch and a gust of rancid air rushed out to greet them. Both women drew back, Vastra allowing the cover to drop back into place with a strange hissing sound.

Jenny coughed hard before saying, "Did I see that right?" from behind her hand.

"You did. The words are written in blood ink and the pages made from -"

"Let's not go that far, Madame."

Vastra looked around the study. The darkness seemed to be returning, though both candles burned just as bright. This book, this heinous text that had bought a sickness of the soul to Paternoster Row and to the Brothers Borlsover, was casting its spell again.

"We must get out of here," Vastra said.

They ran for the door, the darkness crawling after them, the foul stench of decay wrapping around them. Jenny yanked at the handle and Vastra pushed her forward. They tumbled into the hallway and Jenny slammed the door behind them. Jenny was still gathering herself when she looked down at the bottom of the door. A thick darkness oozed out from within, leaking through the gap and beginning to curl around their ankles.

"Madame!"

Vastra grabbed Jenny's arm and pulled her forward. She wanted to go down to Charles' lab but something blocked their way. It was a twisting, writhing hunk of flesh, barely distinguishable as the limb that it had once been. It thrashed and spasmed as it stood guard at the small servants' door behind the staircase.

Jenny shouldered Vastra in the other direction, indicating the staircase itself with a flick of her hand. But that too was blocked, a heaving, twitching collection of human appendages seemed to dance some unholy jig as they menaced the women below. Vastra saw that the dining room doorway was unguarded and knew that they were being herded in that direction but they had no choice; the darkness was close at their heels, the human detritous ahead of them.

They ran for the larger, ornate door of the dining room and Vastra pushed it open, slamming it shut behind them and resting against it as they regained their breath. Jenny leaned her head against the cool wood, her eyes locked on the base of the door. Already darkness was seeping through the gap. She shuffled away, drawing Vastra with her.

Vastra turned to look at the oily blackness and turned again to take in the more natural darkness around them. They stood in a large dining room, a long table and grand chairs taking up much of the space with sideboards along two walls and a row of French windows at the back of the house that must look out on to the small walled area beyond, though the view was blocked by heavy curtains.

Vastra ran over to them and yanked back the damask, raining dust all around her. She stared out at what should have been a bright, late autumn day. It was not. The darkness that infested the house seemed to cling to the ground beyond the window. Vastra looked up and saw a hint of the sky above but a pall lay over the walled garden of the Borlsover home and sucked all light from the earth.

What little she could make out in the brief patches that gave respite from the sepulchral gloom only added to her fear. There seemed to be a cluster of mounds in the broken stones and scattered earth of the garden, as if giant moles had wrought havoc on the land. Then the oozing darkness shifted once more and there was a moment of clarity that exposed a single hand.

It stood a few feet from the window but Vastra had not noticed it until that moment. Its waxen skin was stained dark with earth, it's fingertips blackened, and the stumpy end stood proud from the ground as it waited, ready to pounce. Vastra took a step back despite herself and bumped into Jenny.

"I believe the hand is the key, my dear."

"Can't you just blow the thing up?"

"It may require rather more than that. We must gather the offending books as well as the limbs and we must destroy them utterly."

"Oh, is that all."

Jenny looked back to the main door and saw the darkness rising up, a tenebrous mass that seemed to be forming itself into an advancing wall of blackness. She glanced over to the small side door that the servants would have used and saw it begin to cloud with darkness too.

"Let us go up," Vastra said, "and drive the beasts down."

Jenny turned to stare at her friend but the tall form was already charging towards the window, a hand holding the bag to her back in an attempt to protect it. The glass shattered around her, shards flying in every direction as Vastra covered her face with her free arm and rolled her shoulder into the impact. Jenny ducked instinctively, then forced her legs to move, hurrying after Vastra who was already aiming a heavy kick to the startled hand. She connected solidly and the hand lurched back, rolling away into the blackness as Vastra turned to the wall of the house and began to climb up the stonework.

Jenny caught sight of the lumpen ground but didn't have time to consider it further as she hefted herself up, hand-over-hand, feet slipping on the unnaturally damp wall. Jenny's fingers burned as she dragged herself upwards and suddenly she felt herself falling, then lurched to a bouncing stop as Vastra caught her with one hand and pulled her up bodily. Vastra was clinging to the sill of a first floor window and Jenny took hold too, her feet scrambling below her to find purchase on the slippery stone.

Jenny stretched her neck to look up further. There were two more floors, if you included the servants' attic quarters but she didn't fancy any more climbing. Vastra had the same thought and pulled herself up a little more to deliver a sharp elbow to the weakest point of the pane. Vastra pushed in the remaining glass and hefted herself up and through the window. She reached out to pull Jenny after her and the women lay in a heap on the floor beyond.

Jenny stared at the ceiling, sucking in air and trying to control her shaking body. Vastra jumped to her feet, frantically checking the bag slung over her neck before looking around as she stood guard over her friend until Jenny rose to join her.

The bedroom was nicely furnished in a masculine style but it was covered in dust and mud. Long red and brown stains soiled the carpet, dirty fingerprints ran up and down the bureau and other furniture. The air was heavy and stale, the room bathed in gloom, though not yet infested by the clawing darkness from below.

But there was something climbing after them, something skittering up the wall with more speed than they had managed. And both women knew that the darkness would follow.


	8. Chapter 8

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny looked around. In the far corner, by a smaller door that she assumed lead to a dressing room, there was a broken down valet stand. It had been pulled from the side and toppled over, casting clothes about it. Jenny stepped over the pile and reached down for a walking stick that had been propped up against the stand. She shook it free from the shirt and collar that lay over it and hefted it like a sword.

The weight of the bulbous, brass handle felt good in her palm but Jenny turned the cane around, holding it by the heel and allowing the weight above to drag the shaft down. She flexed her arm, testing the power that she could drive through the makeshift weapon and looked up to find Vastra watching her carefully.

"Do you feel better now, my dear?"

"Much better, thank you," Jenny said with a pout.

Vastra moved to the door, listening for a moment before opening it and stepping out on to the landing. It was dark and cold. She could barely see to the staircase halfway along the narrow space but it was free from the shuffling sounds that came from below and the darkness was an absence of light, nothing more. The air was sharp with the smell of blood but the scent of decay had not reached its peak this high in the house.

Vastra considered the destruction that had been wrought below. "I believe Charles Borlsover may have attempted to halt the resurrection of his brother by burying his dismembered body."

"It'd take a fair bit of work to dig up the back like that," Jenny said, adding, "and plenty more to dig yourself out again."

"Mania can give a human additional strength, can it not?"

"Apparently being dead can too."

They began to walk down the landing, eyes wide in the gloom. They could hear the scratching, dragging sounds of movement on the staircase but moved on. Jenny saw something on the wall ahead and hurried towards it. It was an old family portrait of two young boys standing together. They were stiff in their formal pose but even then they leaned in to each other and the artist had caught something of the mischief of the almost-identical brothers.

Vastra was standing a little way ahead of her and Jenny looked up to see the tall form jump back at the same time that there was a thump from the top of the stairs. In quick succession, there was a bang from the bedroom door on the other side of the staircase and the slow creaking of the door behind them as it opened.

Jenny rolled her wrist, feeling the cane move with her. She looked up to Vastra as her friend turned back, "I'm right with you, Madame," she said, stepping up beside her.

Vastra leaned down to whisper into Jenny's ear, "Let us herd the other appendages into the library and deal with them, then find the head and deal with that abominable book."

Jenny shouldered Vastra aside and nodded to the bag around her neck before making a sudden dash towards the top of the staircase. Vastra was startled for an instant but she rallied quickly and followed her friend.

There was something that might once have been a leg, though it appeared to have married itself to an arm of a very different hue and was now moving in a tilting but surprisingly rapid motion from the other side of the landing. Vastra stepped forward and gave it a hefty kick, gratified to feel the solid impact beneath her boot. The twisted pile of flesh made a sickening sound as it lifted from the floor and cartwheeled backwards, settling in a heap at the head of the stairs.

Jenny had to dodge to the side as it crashed back to the floor and she whipped the cane around like a club to send the flesh gamboling down the stairs, hurtling into the advancing jumble of limbs below. They fell like ninepins, scattered across the steps, some tumbling backwards, others thrown into the balustrade.

One leg found itself trapped by the knee, caught in the gaps between the spindles. Vastra ran behind Jenny, her foot darting out to force the limb through the gap and send it thumping down to the hallway below. They were halfway down the staircase now and causing chaos amongst the appendages that tried to grab at them with dead fingers or trip them with detached feet.

There were far too many of them for the two deaths that Vastra and Jenny knew of and Vastra wondered how many more poor souls had been sacrificed to this horror. Jenny was too taken up with her hacking and slashing to consider the mathematics of the situation. She watched with satisfaction as the limbs scattered, enjoying the bumping sounds as they fell backwards down the steps. She felt a moment of pity for them; what could mere limbs do against two strong women? Then she remembered Mr Charles, poor Houghton and even Eustace Borlsover. She set her mounting triumph aside and focused on driving the creatures back.

They were almost at the bottom of the stairs now. Vastra and Jenny used their feet and Jenny her cane to force them on. Vastra forged ahead and opened the nearest library door. She reached into her bag and pulled out two small, rounded bottles about the size and shape of elongated pears. The bulbous end held a dark powder that rushed around its glass confines. Mixed in with it were larger crystals and flecks of white that tumbled together amongst the black. Above, in the long, thin neck of the bottle and separated by a cloth bung, a pale liquid splashed about.

Jenny didn't have time to consider them, all of her attention on herding the last of the limbs through the door. There was one stray appendage, the strange leg-arm hybrid that Vastra had dealt with so deftly at the top of the stairs. Jenny scooped it up as if the cane were a hurley, neatly catching under the join of the two members and throwing the writhing flesh through the door with a grunt.

Vastra threw the two bottles after it with as much force as she could muster, then grabbed for the door handle and slammed it shut. Just as the wood shuddered into place, there came two loud bangs in quick succession. The door vibrated in its frame, Vastra and Jenny feeling the percussion through the soles of their boots.

They waited, unmoving, barely breathing, but no further noise came from within. Jenny sucked in a ragged breath and raised the cane in mock-victory. Vastra managed an indulgent smile but it faded as something over Jenny's shoulder caught her eye. Jenny turned and muttered an oath before lowering the cane and holding it in front of her in a defensive posture.

The hand remained behind. It stood on a lower step and Jenny felt that it was watching them. It had a presence to it, a very real sense of it being an entity in its own right. A malevolent entity at that. Vastra glanced at the servants' door and saw it open and clear. She moved slowly forward and the hand shifted a little on its fingertips, following her movement but not matching it.

Jenny moved with her, her wrist cocked to keep the cane's handle pointing at the hand, "Shouldn't we get it into the study?"

"No," Vastra's eyes never left the hand, "I would fear for the evil it could do before we return."

Jenny shivered at the depth of feeling in Vastra's tone. She had never known her friend so worried by anything they had investigated before. Jenny had been waiting for her to offer some rational explanation for all these horrors, something that would wipe away her fear that it might be underpinned by true evil. So much for that.

"Let's get this finished, eh?"

Vastra edged towards the smaller door, Jenny close behind. The hand continued to shift, watching them go but still not following.

"Fear not, my dear," Vastra leaned in to Jenny's ear, "I believe we have the upper hand."

Jenny rolled her eyes, "You could earn a fortune at the Palace Theatre."

They moved on, slipping through the servants' door and taking the short flight of steps down. A stone-lined corridor opened on to the kitchens at the back and the other workrooms at the side, leading to a heavy, wooden door secured with a padlock. Jenny glanced into each of the open rooms while Vastra made straight for the locked door.

"Everywhere's a mess," Jenny said as she joined Vastra, "but no sign of anything else running about. Here, let me," she eased Vastra aside and made quick work of the padlock, "There you go."

Vastra only had the door a few inches open when they were hit with the heavy scent of death. Jenny didn't even raise a hand to her face this time and Vastra opened the door fully before stepping inside. It was a square room with most of the wall space taken up by high shelves that held row upon row of cages. Most of them were quite small, big enough for rodents at most, though there was one shelf of larger cages that had held small primates and larger birds.

Only a few of the cages were empty and some even held living creatures, though they were close to death from thirst and starvation. Most of the cages held the rotting corpses of their former occupants but in a few those corpses were moving far more than their still-living counterparts. A gibbering rose up from the undead creatures, the tiny apes rattling the bars of their cages. The rodents skulked around their confines, keening miserably, their patchy skin rugose and grey.

"I hope we don't need get all of this lot upstairs too," Jenny said.

Vastra looked around, taking in all of the cages, then focusing on the bench at the centre of the room and the tall wooden cabinets that Charles Borlsover had used to store his work.

She turned back to Jenny and said, "Keep guard at the door and, pray, be vigilant for the approach of our watcher."

Jenny took up station in the open doorway, her gaze flicking from the corridor beyond and back into the room where Vastra gave the workbench a cursory inspection before beginning to work her way through the cabinets. Most were open and Jenny could see that they were full to overflowing with notebooks and papers. The bottom drawer was locked and Jenny made to enter the room to help her friend but Vastra waved her back and yanked the drawer open with main force. It too was full of papers.

Vastra stood and looked around, a hint of wildness to her gaze that made Jenny shiver again. As Jenny's eyes returned to the corridor outside the room, they glanced over a section of the shelving that held empty cages. She looked back, staring at the wall behind them through their thin bars. Vastra followed her gaze and hurried over to the stack. She pulled the cages out of the way, sending them tumbling to the floor and starting up another round of gibbering calls from the creatures.

Vastra rapped at the wall with her knuckles, clearly hearing the difference in tone as her hand moved along the shelf. She pressed her palm flat to the wall and felt a subtle give at the pressure. After a few moments of trying to find a mechanism to open the hiding place, Vastra gave up and making her hand into a fist, simply punched through the thin panel. She heard a faint gasp from Jenny but her attention was drawn to the object that her knuckles connected with once the wood had given way.

Vastra withdrew her hand quicky and stared in horror at what stared back at her. She heard Jenny say something from behind her but could not bring herself to speak. Then the eyes blinked open and she took a hasty step away. It was a head. A human head, severed at the neck, the skin horribly pale and beginning to rot. And the eyes blinked. Eyes just like Charles Borlsover's and the features much the same too. But harder and shaped with a malevolent intent that had surely always been there.

Vastra stealed herself and reached forward, grabbing at the crown of the head and yanking it free from its prison. The thin, white lips curled into a smile of triumph and Vastra had the urge to crush the head in her hands. She resisted, knowing that this, along with the hand and that horrendous book must be dealt with together. There was something hypnotic in those eyes, though, something that seemed to trace a path from the great unknown directly into her soul. She felt it tugging at her, drawing her in to the depths of those fathomless orbs.

Jenny watched in horror as Vastra pulled the head from the shattered panel and held it in front of her. She blinked hard when the eyes and lips moved, not believing what she was seeing even after everything she had witnessed. She dragged her eyes away from the head and studied Vastra carefully.

Jenny looked back once to be sure that the corridor remained clear, then hurried forward. She skidded to a halt at Vastra's side and bought the cane down on her arm with a heavy thwhack. Vastra jumped, almost dropping the head as her arm tensed under the assault, the bag bouncing dangerously at her back. She turned to stare at Jenny, unseeing for a moment before the haze cleared and she found herself caught in dark eyes that bored into her own.

"Jenny, forgive me. I find myself somewhat -"

"Well buck up, eh? And give me that thing."

Vastra was startled by the shortness of Jenny's words and the swift grabbing motion that took the head and its lulling effect from her. Jenny was surprised by it too and she was halfway out of the room before she realised what she had done. The idea of Vastra turning to the darkness had terrified her more than anything she had seen over the past twenty-four hours and she would not loose her friend to these horrors.

She tried not to look at the head that dangled from her fingers by a handful of skin and hair, grateful that the grip she had on it meant that the face was turned away from her. She held her left arm out, the head swinging like a lantern as she marched to the stairs, and kept her right wrist cocked to have the cane ready for action if need be.

Vastra shook herself free of the last vestiges of whatever power had tempted her and ran to catch up with her friend's rapid step. Vastra was immediately behind Jenny when they reached the top of the stairs and she ran into Jenny's back as they came to a sudden halt. The two women stood cramped together in the small space at the top of the steps just before entering the hallway itself.

The door was open and the hallway was not silent. Jenny stepped out slowly, feeling the head begin to shake in her hand.


	9. Chapter 9

See Part One for story details.

* * *

The library door was open and wafts of the same black smoke that had filled their own home now settled about the hallway. It's darkness was mixing with the deeper, oozing blackness and forming a thick mist above the floor. From out of the shifting cloud came the familiar scuttling, dragging sounds. They looked to the study and saw that the hand had employed the assistance of the strange hybrid creature to open the room.

Vastra hurried past Jenny, her elbow catching the head that swung wildly in Jenny's hand. Jenny struggled against its writhing but held tight as she followed Vastra, cane raised and arm already swinging. Vastra attacked the mist, hands and feet thrashing through the darkness to grab at the creatures below and toss them through the open study door. She made a low hissing cry that grew in her throat to a battle roar that filled the hallway, echoing off the walls.

Jenny was momentarily distracted by the primal sounds, amazed when she caught a brief glimpse of her friend and saw a stranger in her place. The scales of her face were more pronounced, the teeth barred, the eyes burning with rage. Appendages flew, skittling along the surface of the darkness or dancing through the air, all landing with thuds on the wood of the study floor.

Jenny felt something tug at her trouser and had to kick hard to dislodge the grasp of whatever swarmed around her legs. She hacked down with the cane to drive the creatures back, swinging her free arm as the head jolted and rocked in her other hand. Jenny thought that it might be whispering something but she cast the thought aside as she cast another arm into the study.

Vastra had fallen back a little and was rummaging in her bag. Jenny felt the panic rising in her chest; what if they didn't have enough ammunition to deal with these creatures? Could a single door and Jenny herself hold them until Vastra returned with more?

But the panic lapsed, sucked down in a relieved breath as Vastra pulled two more of the strange shaped bottles. Jenny resumed the hacking motion of her arm until she could feel no more resistance from the cloud at her feet. She was close to the study door now, her arm still swinging back and forth to keep the creatures from escaping.

Vastra came to her side and readied the bottles. She turned to the head and stared at it. Jenny shook her arm hard, the face jumping around in front of Vastra's eyes and she snapped to herself again, her eyes burning with fire once more. Jenny didn't wait for the word, she simply tossed the head through the door followed by a muttered oath.

Vastra threw the bottles in as hard as she could, hoping to land at least one close to the book that rattled on its lectern as the limbs bustled around it The head bounced long the clouded floor, coming to rest near its base. Then her vision was blocked by the slamming door, the wood quivering in its frame as Jenny held the handle tight, her arms flexed against any resistance from beyond.

There was a brief moment of silence that felt like eons had past, then the handle shook under Jenny's grip, the wood bowing outward, then settling slowly into its frame with a long, pained creaking that was washed out by the two booming explosions that came in quick succession. They seemed much louder than the two that had shaken the library earlier, mixing in with a screaming, howling cry that might have come from the very depths of hell itself.

The two women waited, slumped against the wall and breathing hard. Jenny's hand was still wrapped around the door handle and Vastra reached out to gently loosen the fingers. The smaller hand dropped away and bounced against the door frame. They were silent for a long time, remaining still despite the gusts of rancid smoke that rushed out from around the door and took the place of the oozing darkness that had drifted away to nothing.

"Is that it do you think?" Jenny said eventually.

"I hope so, my dear, for I would prefer not to have to do that again. That is, if you don't mind?"

Jenny's lips quirked into a tired grin, "I think I'd manage without, if it's all the same to you." There was another long pause before Jenny added, "So that's really it then?"

Vastra pushed away from the wall to stare at the door. Thick, dark smoke still drifted from beneath it but there was no hint of the former blackness. And there was no sound from within, no sign of movement at all. They would have to open the door and check the room thoroughly, of course, but Vastra was more than willing to put that off for a moment longer.

"I believe so. The book, the head and the hand seem to have been the unholy trinity in this business and I believe we have taken care of them all. The book will have to be handled with a great deal of care, perhaps Mr Hoogstraten could offer a suggestion in -"

"Let's not give it to him though, eh?" Jenny interrupted.

"Just so, my dear. No, you are quite right; we will deal with the book in our own way," Vastra said with a firm nod, "and we will have the poor creatures within cremated as soon as possible, their ashes to be dealt with appropriately...whatever constitutes appropriately in such circumstances."

"The head too?"

"The head most certainly, for if there were anything more permanent that could be done with that abomination, I should have it done twice over."

With that decided, Vastra reached out and opened the study door slowly, her eyes steely as she watched the growing gap for any sign of danger within. There was none. More smoke wafted about them and the hallway filled with a sharp, cloying scent that mingled decay with saltpetre and singed papers. As the smoke cleared a little, the floor became more exposed and the women could see the limbs lying, twisted and blackened in heaps of smoldering flesh. Above them, the lectern gave off wisps of smoke that shifted around the book where it sat, blackened and still; all the evil energy of the thing purged, at least for the moment.

Despite their exhaustion, Vastra and Jenny worked tirelessly to clear the study, piling the limbs up in the hallway and wrapping the book in thick layers of blanket. A runner was sent to the offices of Milton And Milton and the two women waited for the arrival of the agent and his men. They all paled visibly when they entered the house, Mr Milton having to excuse himself and return to the London air to recover. There he spent some time dealing with irate neighbours who had been disturbed by the bumping and banging of the preceding few hours.

Vastra gave her orders to the men, leading two of them down to Charles Borlsover's labratory to clear the now entirely dead inhabitants from their cages. She returned to find Jenny standing over the bundle of rags that was actually one of the most dangerous books on the planet. She was staring down at it, the cane back in her hand, the heavy brass handle hovering over the blankets as if warding off evil. Which was exactly what she was doing.

"Why not just have this burned too, Madame?"

"Alas, I fear it might do more harm than good, my dear."

"How can-" Jenny stopped, shook her head and said, "Never mind, let's just get it out of here, eh?"

Vastra placed a gentle hand on Jenny's arm and eased her around and away from the book. The dark eyes rose to stare into Vastra's face with a haunted expression that Vastra regretted deeply. Their adventures of recent months had been most hard on her friend and she would not have wished any of it on the remarkable young woman.

"I am sorry, Jenny."

Vastra lifted her hand, running her fingertips over Jenny's dirt-stained cheek. Jenny's eyes cast around the hallway, her body tensing for a moment but Vastra's gaze never left her face, her fingers never halting their gentle motion. Jenny relaxed and closed her eyes, feeling the faint contact calm her even as it sent a tingle through her body.

"Don't be sorry. If we weren't here to deal with this, who would, eh?"

"Who indeed. Still, I propose a quieter few weeks, perhaps a simple theft or a disappearance. What say you?"

Jenny grinned, her eyes slowly opening to take in Vastra's growing smile and the emotions that danced behind her eyes. She lifted her own hand and pressed it to her face, trapping Vastra's fingers to her cheek. They remained that way for a while, paying no heed to the men who bustled about them, entirely unconcerned with any surprised glances or knowing looks that they might have received.

Then there was a polite cough from the doorway and the women were forced to part. Jenny scowled at Mr Milton, from whom the noise originated. Vastra touched her shoulder in sympathy, then allowed her hand to fall to her side, her fingers still warmed from the contact. They walked to the doorway, joining Mr Milton on the steps to the house. The man had barely been inside for two seconds yet he looked more pale and pained than any of his men or the two women themselves.

"Ladies, forgive me for interrupting your," he hesitated delicately, "contemplations but I fear I must request an explanation."

"Must you really, Mr Milton?" Vastra said.

"I must indeed, for I must know how best to frame the sale of the residence. I fear that word of such strange happenings must inevitably reduce the interest in -"

"We'll take it," Jenny said.

"We would be happy to -" Vastra began at exactly the same moment.

The two women stared at each other, Milton looking from one to the other in amazement. He watched the silent communication between the veiled and cloaked Madame Vastra and the unconventionally attired Miss Flint. He felt that he should be scandalised but there was something so uniquely right about these two strange women and their obvious bond that he couldn't bring himself to muster such a response. He was not apt to judge and these two remarkable people would not be interested in his opinions even if he was.

"You surprise me, my dear," Vastra said, Milton forgotten as she studied her friend closely.

Jenny grinned, "I'm a bit surprised myself, Madame. It's just, well, a nice big house like this, plenty of room for the both of us and even a ready-made labratory for yourself. At a very good price too, I have no doubt," she added pointedly in Milton's direction before looking back to Vastra, "And we certainly know that the place has been cleared of any dangers, don't we?"

"That we do. And you would not be troubled by our early memories of the place?"

"I'd rather be sure of what's been before us and know that it's finished with, Madame, wouldn't you?"

"I would indeed. Then it is settled," Vastra said, turning to Milton, "Miss Flint and I will take the house. Do you agree?"

Milton blinked at the women for a moment, feeling the weight of Vastra's eyes from behind the heavy lace of her veil and the glare from the smaller woman at her side. He had so rarely been on the wrong end of a deal - certainly not when dealing with women - but he felt sure that the matter was well and truly out of his hands and that a gratious acceptance was his only recourse.

He gave a formal bow and injecting as much dignity into his tone as possible, said, "I believe we have made a sale, Madame Vastra, Miss Flint. And many congratulations on taking such a fine residence as your new abode. I will have the paperwork drawn up immediately. At a fair price," he added with a smile.

They shook on the agreement and Milton hurried off to finalise the matter before anyone could change their minds. Vastra and Jenny took advantage of the presence of Milton's men to direct the clearance of the Borlsover's belongings and discuss amongst themselves their future home. A quiet calm settled on the place as if their agreement to take the house had cleansed it of any lingering malignity.

And no-one noticed the strange twitching of the study curtains as something climbed down from above or the low creak of the door as it was opened from within. Work was commencing in the upstairs of the house when there came a shuffling, clicking sound from the hallway. The sight of a hand walking on its fingertips down the house steps was surely an apparition and nothing more.


End file.
